


Restoration

by schweet_heart



Series: Merlin Fic [154]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Banter, Boys Kissing, Canon Era, Crack, Declarations Of Love, Epilogue, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Hogwarts: A History, Humour, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Neck Kissing, Post-Magic Reveal, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 07:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16718599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: Castles took decades to build; everyone knew that. Sometimes a building that was started during the reign of one king would not be complete until the reign of his son or grandson, depending on how big the structure was meant to be and how plentiful the materials were. There were the stones to quarry and transport, the scaffolding to erect, the builders and workmen to be found and housed and trained and fed. A castle was a massive undertaking, and Arthur had known from the beginning that there was every chance he wouldn’t live to see the work completed.The rebuilding of Camelot took three weeks.An epilogue of sorts forThe Cracks in Our Foundation, but can be read as a stand-alone.





	Restoration

**Author's Note:**

> I found this lurking in my finished folder and realised that I never quite got around to posting it. I was going to add it to the end of the other fic, but I feel like it's quite different in tone, so I decided it should probably stand alone. Hope you enjoy it :)

 

Castles took decades to build; everyone knew that. Sometimes a building that was started during the reign of one king would not be complete until the reign of his son or grandson, depending on how big the structure was meant to be and how plentiful the materials were. There were the stones to quarry and transport, the scaffolding to erect, the builders and workmen to be found and housed and trained and fed. A castle was a massive undertaking, and Arthur had known from the beginning that there was every chance he wouldn’t live to see the work completed.

 

The rebuilding of Camelot took three weeks.

 

“Three  _weeks_ ,” Arthur said, folding his arms and glaring at Merlin. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or vaguely irritated, because useful as it was to have such a powerful sorcerer on his side, it did rather take the excitement out of life sometimes. “You built me a castle in three weeks. I know I told you to help out a little with the construction, Merlin, but I don’t remember telling you to do it _all by_ _yourself_.”

 

“Er.” Merlin blushed a little, scratching the back of his neck with one hand and scuffing the ground sheepishly with his boot. “My magic may have gotten a little carried away.”

 

“I see.” Arthur looked up at the battlements that rose above their heads and attempted to count the number of turrets the castle had sprouted, seemingly overnight. There were quite a few more than he remembered.

 

“Do you like it?” Merlin asked nervously. He looked a bit like a little kid, showing off a mud pie to his parents and waiting for them to take a bite out of it. It was stupidly endearing. “I really want you to like it.”

 

And Arthur wanted to answer, he really did, but he had just seen the castle’s banners unfurl themselves, snapping taut in a non-existent breeze as if the citadel were preening before his very eyes.

 

It was rather a lot to take in.

 

“It’s not exactly an ordinary castle,” Merlin went on a moment later, his words all but running together as he sought to fill the lengthening silence. “I might have gotten the internal dimensions a bit…wrong. That is, I’m pretty sure I made a few too many rooms and they probably shouldn’t all be able to fit like that, let alone shrink and grow whenever they feel like it. There’s also a slight possibility that it might be a little bit, er. Alive.”

 

“…alive.” Arthur couldn’t even bring himself to make it a question. “My castle is alive.”

 

“Just a little bit.” Merlin shrugged helplessly, his face breaking into a lopsided grin in a way that never failed to make Arthur’s heart skip a beat. “I think Camelot wanted to give you back some of what you’d lost.”

 

Without speaking, Arthur tugged Merlin into his arms and held onto him, closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent of sweat and stone dust that rose from his body. Only Merlin, he thought, would erect a forty-foot monument to the dead and somehow manage to turn it into something so beautiful.

 

“This land loves you,” Merlin whispered into Arthur’s ear. His breath stirred Arthur’s hair, making him shiver. “Her people love you.”

 

“And you?” Arthur couldn’t resist asking, trailing his hands down Merlin’s sides to grip at his hips and shifting so that he could press a kiss to the base of his throat. “Do you love me?”

 

“More than all of them put together,” Merlin told him. He caught hold of Arthur’s face and lifted it to his, and Arthur went to him gladly, fitting their mouths together until he could feel Merlin’s breath entering his own lungs, Merlin’s heart beating in time to his. He lost track of himself for a moment, Merlin’s tongue sliding over his teeth, Arthur’s hands pressing beneath belt and tunic to the skin beneath, and when he drew back it was only far enough to ask,

 

“Do you really think we should be doing this here?”

 

“No one can see us,” Merlin assured him, peppering kisses along the line of his jaw. “The knights are busy, and I specifically told the workmen they wouldn’t be needed this morning.”

 

“Yes, but what about _that_?” Arthur gestured towards the castle. He was pretty sure he hadn’t imagined the way the tapestries at the windows had all drawn back at the same time. The castle was peering down at them from its hill like an elderly relative, short-sighted and aggressively disinterested in minding its own business. “I feel like it’s spying on us.”

 

“Shh, don't call her an it, you’ll hurt her feelings,” Merlin said, distracted, and Arthur let out a wordless groan in response as Merlin sucked at his jugular, teeth scraping along the ridge of the vein. Above them, vines began to grow up the castle walls, sprouting bright pink flowers the size of Arthur’s head, and Merlin paused in his ministrations to look at them. “I hadn’t thought about it like that,” he said, after a moment. “That could be a bit awkward.”

 

“You think?” Now that he could breathe again, Arthur took a step back, reluctantly letting go of Merlin’s waist to look up at the castle. A rose bower had sprouted in the courtyard, along with a gigantic water fountain featuring a highly detailed statue of two men in a state of…romantic undress. It made Arthur blush to look at it. “Merlin, am I going to have to spend the rest of my life being spied upon by a voyeuristic heap of bricks?”

 

“It’s possible, sire,” Merlin said, apologetically. He caught sight of Arthur’s face, and winced. “But it will probably also be quite a _long_ life, if that helps. I’ve imbued Camelot with the power to protect you from magical attack, should it prove necessary, and I think she’ll do an admirable job, don’t you?”

 

Arthur paused for a second to consider the implications of an armed, dangerous, _living_ castle as his eternal guardian, and then gave up.

 

“You’re an idiot,” he told Merlin, since this could usually be counted upon to be the truth in any situation, no matter how confusing or insane. He leaned in to capture Merlin’s lips again, ignoring the veritable flurry of songbirds that erupted from somewhere behind them. “But you’re my idiot.”

 

“Always,” Merlin agreed, a little breathlessly. His fingers twined into Arthur’s hair, stroking the soft down at the nape of his neck and drawing him in close. “And don’t you ever doubt it.”


End file.
